


Disarm and Defuse

by Siria, thegrrrl2002



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Episode Tag, Episode s03e16: Kekoa, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-19
Updated: 2013-02-19
Packaged: 2017-11-29 20:47:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/691278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siria/pseuds/Siria, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegrrrl2002/pseuds/thegrrrl2002
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Episode coda for 3.16. Cath and Danny know what Steve needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Disarm and Defuse

Steve stands and stares at the door for a long while after it swings closed on his mom and her laughter. Every time, it seems, she wrong foots him; every time she makes him feel like a sixteen-year-old kid again, frightened and angry and so full of questions that no one wants to answer. He zones out a little, coming back to himself only when he hears the clank of Cath putting a vase in the sink to fill it. 

"Get a grip, McGarrett," he tells himself, scrubbing his hands over his face, and sitting back down in his spot on the couch. He's still got his novel and his dinner, after all. 

Steve's almost to the end of the chapter when the front door opens: like always, Danny doesn't knock, just marches right in. He's got a foil-wrapped bundle under one arm and his arms are swinging as if he's marching into the middle of a war zone, all belligerent chin and puffed-out chest. Steve blinks up at him. "Danno?"

"You turned down her grandmother's ragu recipe?" Danny says, in tones of great outrage. "What are you, running a fever?" He waves the bundle at Steve like a baton. "For that recipe, I'm moved enough to defrost some of _my_ Ma's garlic bread, which is the best in Jersey, ergo, best in the world. And you're choosing instead to sit there eating… what is that thing?" He wrinkles his nose. "Spam's probably got more organic content."

Steve sits back with a sigh, abandoning all thoughts of finishing his book tonight. "Cath texted you."

"Cath texted him," she confirms, walking in and placing the vase full of flowers in the center of the coffee table. "And for really obvious reasons."

"I don't need to be _handled_ ," Steve huffs, rolling his eyes. 

"Oh yes, yes you do," Danny says, wagging a finger at Steve in that way he knows is guaranteed to drive Steve crazy. He hands the foil-wrapped package off to Catherine, then marches up to Steve and snatches the MRE out of his hands. 

"Danny," Steve says, with what he thinks is surpassing patience. "I was eating that."

Danny sniffs the open package and instantly recoils in exaggerated horror. "Oh, oh, that—eww. Kamekona wouldn't serve that, babe."

Irritated, Steve gets up from the couch and reaches for the MRE, but Danny's too quick—he's already passed it to Catherine, who immediately holds it behind her back. Steve sighs. He'd put Danny into a headlock to get his food back, but no way would he do that to Cath—not because of chivalry, but because she'd have no issues with stomping on his instep to get free, and Steve's only wearing flip flops. 

"What are you trying to do here, Steve?" she asks. Her tone is low, full of mischief—on any other night, after pretty much any other kind of incident, Steve would be intrigued. But right now, he's tired and irritable and he wants that damn MRE, even if just on principle at this point. 

"I'm just trying to enjoy my dinner in my own home," Steve says, and yeah, he's getting all the awards for patience and diplomacy this evening. He stretches out a hand. 

Danny rolls his eyes and heads for the kitchen. "That is some bullshit right there," he yells over his shoulder.

"I just had a craving!" Steve says, exasperated. 

"No one has a craving for MREs," Cath says. "That really strong coffee they serve in the mess, or those terrible things they call powdered doughnuts? Sure. MREs, no one."

"No one," Danny echoes, walking back in from the kitchen with some bowls of pasta balancing on a tray. Steve can smell the first hints of warming bread wafting in behind him. 

"When's the last time you've had an MRE?" he shoots at Danny, folding his arms, trying to distract himself from the way that, despite the teasing tone of their voices, both Danny and Cath are looking at him like they're worried; trying not to think about the fact that his mom's been lying and lying and _lying_ to him. 

"Never," Danny says blithely. "And it's going to stay that way. Now sit. The bread will be ready in another couple minutes; goes down best when it's got some sauce to soak up." Danny puts the tray down on the coffee table and pushes one of the bowls in Steve's direction.

Steve doesn't sit. "You know what? I'm not really hungry anymore."

He knows he's just being petulant now, but he can't help himself. Cath's just walked into the kitchen and he can hear her dumping his MRE into the garbage, and they're both being incredibly bossy, and he's tired and he's an adult and he can damn well decide what he wants to eat and when he wants to eat it. 

"Oh my god." Cath returns from the kitchen with some Longboards in her hands. "Did I really just hear him say that?"

"I know," Danny says. "Classic, right?"

"I am right here," Steve says, teeth clenched. 

"Yes, yes you are. And I'm going to be in there," Danny points in the direction of the kitchen, "getting the bread."

Danny disappears into the kitchen. Catherine puts the beer bottles on the coffee table, then straightens, her eyes on Steve the whole time. Her expression is one of warm concern and that's almost worst than the bossiness. 

"Would it really be so bad to just talk about this, Steve?" she says. "I mean, actually talk to someone. We're both willing to listen."

"I don't need to talk to someone," Steve grits out, and he feels jittery, unsettled, like he wants to go out and run for miles along the beach until he's so tired he can't remember anything but name, rank, serial number. "I just wanted to… to do something productive, okay? Figure out what's going on." But Doris—his mother— _Doris_ —has put paid to that yet again. 

"Talking is doing something," Cath says. "It's an action, just like anything else. You've just got to want to do it."

"Damn straight," Danny says, coming back in. He's got a basket of warm bread in one hand and a pepper grinder in the other. "Anyone who says talking is not a serious activity has never met my sisters who, I love them, this is not in dispute, but those women would get gold if they made conversation an Olympic event." He deposits bread and pepper on the the coffee table, picks up his beer, and then stands right there beside Cath. Danny's so fair and Catherine's so dark, but the two of them are twins in the solid, unmoving way they're looking at Steve. They're not going anywhere. 

Steve throws himself back down on the couch, and yeah, he knows he's not doing anything to lessen the impression of petulance right now, but there's a nasty, childish part of him that thinks _good_. "Yeah, well, who says I'm anything like you, Danny."

"No, no, you're right. Best to keep it all inside." Danny picks up a bowl of pasta and sits on the club chair across from Steve before digging in. "Like a ticking time bomb."

"Danny," Steve snaps. 

"He has a point, Steve," Cath says, a little too gently. 

Danny reaches for his beer. "Tick tick tick."

"I'm telling you both," Steve says, folding his arms. "Lay off."

"Mmm. Do you mind waiting until after I finish eating to explode?" Danny shovels another forkful of pasta into his mouth. "Because this is good stuff right here. You put a little extra basil in this time?"

"Could you be any more of an asshole, Danny?" Steve asks. 

"You know he can." Cath moves to sit beside Steve on the couch. 

"Yup," Danny says agreeably. "I can."

"Don't tempt him," Cath says, taking another pull of her beer. 

Danny shakes his head. "Don't tempt me."

They're too much, the both of them; Steve has no idea when they both got to know him so well that they're able to herd him with such ease. He slumps back against the couch, outnumbered and defeated. Catherine pats his leg and lets him sit for a moment, eyes closed. "She's my mother," he says finally. "And everything about her is a lie. So tell me, what exactly am I supposed to do?"

"Have you considered maybe not doing any of the things which are the first to pop into your goofy head?" Danny says. "Because I hate to point this out to you, babe, but your track record of dealing with anything that can't be solved with a hand grenade is sort of abysmal."

"Hiring a PI to trail your mother is never a good idea," Cath adds, picking back up her own bowl of pasta. "Even if she's not a super spy."

"You told her?" Steve says, sitting upright and glaring at Danny. "What the hell gave you the right to—"

"Hey!" Cath says, smacking him on the thigh with her free hand hard enough to sting, making Steve subside for a moment. "You might've forgotten there are three people in this relationship, but Danny hasn't. And we have the right to speak up if we think you're hurting yourself."

She's right, there are three of them: have been for months now. Sometimes, Steve wonders what the hell he's doing, figuring out this unorthodox balance that seems to exist between the three of them. It's not like he's ever had much luck in the past being intimate with even one person. Add to that a not-dead mother who may or may not be running a black op right here on the island and who could possibly be having sex with his buddy Mick right now—

Steve screws his eyes shut tight and rubs his forehead. Sometimes he misses being on active duty; having someone give you a gun and point you in the direction you need to shoot in is a whole hell of a lot easier. "Can't we just go back to the foxhole thing?"

Danny's forehead creases in confusion. "Wait, is this Navy code for something kinky?"

"No," Cath says, but then her smile takes on an added edge of mischief. "Well, not yet."

"Because—" Danny lifts his right hip up off the seat for a moment, rummages around in his pants pocket until he produces a small bottle. "I did bring the massage oil, because limber is always better—though I will right now veto last Friday's sexcapades because my knee still isn't back to normal."

"Please never say sexcapades again," Cath says. "Though I'd definitely be down with a repeat of Sunday."

"Duly noted," Danny says, grinning at her. 

Steve blinks, feeling a little blindsided—even more so when Danny starts unbuttoning his shirt and Cath stands and starts to shimmy out of her shorts, kicking off her sneakers. "Wait," he says, "I thought you two wanted me to talk about stuff?" 

"We do. But right now," Danny says, shrugging his shirt off his shoulders, "you're wound a little too tight. Burn off some of that nervous tension and then you can spill your guts to us. Unless you want to eat dinner first?" 

Cath tosses her shorts aside. "Oh, right. Did you want your food?"

Steve looks at his bowl of pasta, then to Danny's naked chest and freckled skin, and to Cath, with her long legs and blue lace panties. "Dinner can wait." 

And if his voice is a bit high and tight, well, he can't help it, because all at once he's completely on board with their plan. Touching is always much better than talking. 

"Okay then. You," Danny says, pointing a finger at Steve, "have some beer, and I will wrap up the bread. Because this isn't going to waste." He picks up the basket with the garlic bread and hurries into the kitchen. "Breakfast of champions, and all that." 

Steve pauses midway between swallows of his beer. "You're kidding me, right?" 

A rustle of aluminum foil, a slam of the kitchen drawer. "You have much to learn about what constitutes good food, Captain MRE," Danny calls out.

Steve opens his mouth to correct Danny, then closes it again because there's no point, honestly. Cath laughs, takes a drink of her beer, then slips her t-shirt off over her head and okay, yes, that's a distraction. 

"We may need to do an intervention. Go through the house, top to bottom, removing all MREs," Danny says as he strides back into the living room, wiping his hands on a dishtowel.

Steve puts his beer bottle on the table with a thud. "You will never find them all." Plus he's got caches in his truck and in his office at work.

"Give it up, Steve." Cath has already reached the bottom of the stairs, hands resting on her hips. "Well, what are you waiting for, big guy?" She grins back at them.

"I'll assume she's talking to me," Danny says. "But come on." He reaches out a hand to Steve. 

Steve takes it. Danny's palm is warm and dry and callused against his, and it should make Steve feel like an idiot—being led like a child up the stairs in his own home—but instead the touch makes something inside him feel a little more settled. As he climbs the stairs behind Cath and Danny, he works to make himself forget for now everything that's been going on these past few months—all the hurt and the grief and the terrible, confusing bewilderment—to push away the fact that he's going to have to talk about it soon enough. 

Because for now, he's got Cath waiting for him at the top of the stairs—her mouth hot and wet against his neck, her hands deftly undoing the drawstring of his shorts. Steve lets himself touch her—run his hands up over her bra, loving the scratch of the lace against his palms—while he watches Danny kick his way out of his pants and tug back the covers on Steve's neatly made bed. 

And then Danny is behind him, hands sliding over Steve's hips before pushing his shirt up. Cath finishes pulling it off over his head, and Steve knows it's kind of ridiculous, but he's a bit irritated. He can take his shirt off all by himself. He doesn't need to be fussed over, doesn't need Danny to tug his underwear down for him.

"Jesus, you, you're so tense," Danny says, pressing a kiss between Steve's shoulder-blades. 

Cath wraps her arms around Steve, and Danny, too, pulling them both in. "Seriously, Steve. Just let go, for a little while, huh?" 

She pulls him into a kiss, sweet and yet demanding. Danny's hands are moving down over his stomach, Danny's cock hard and sleek against the back of Steve's thigh. Steve wraps a hand around the back of Cath's neck and revels in the kiss as Danny nuzzles his neck; the scratch of Danny's stubble against the sensitive skin of his nape makes him shiver. And then Cath slips away and Danny's reaching up to kiss him and Cath is curling a hand around his cock and it's a little like drowning, being caught between the push-and-pull of the two of them. 

Steve's already breathing unsteadily, as if he's just run up the trail at Koko Head. "I..." There's something he wants to say, something important, but he can't quite think of what it is right now—not with two sets of hands moving over him, not with all this warm skin pressed against his. "I—"

"Shh," Danny says softly, "C'mon, let us do this for you first, okay?"

Steve nods, feeling a sudden lump in his throat, and follows obediently when Cath guides him the last couple of steps over to the bed: when she kisses him softly before pressing him back down to lie against the mattress. Cath rubs a soothing hand over his belly while Danny rummages in the bedside locker for condoms and lube. 

Danny pulls out the largest bottle of lube and a whole strip of condoms with a triumphant noise, which makes Cath laugh, low and throaty. "Forward planning, I approve."

"I'm glad to have your approval, Lieutenant Rollins," Danny says, mock formal, leaning over to kiss her. Steve's always loved watching the two of them make out: the way Danny tangles one hand in Cath's long hair, the way she makes him moan by running the blunt edge of her nails up his throat and along the stubbled edge of his jaw. When the kiss ends, Danny arches an eyebrow at Cath, and Cath smirks, and even though they don't say a word, Steve knows that they're deciding how to deal with him. He swallows hard. 

"And do you approve too?" Danny asks as he kneels on the bed beside Steve. "Hmmm?" 

"Uh huh." It's the best Steve can do, because Cath is nuzzling his stomach, long hair falling down to tickle his skin. She sinks her teeth gently into his hip, making him gasp, then sits up and reaches around to unclasp her bra. 

"Can you help get this?" she asks Danny.

"Gladly." 

Danny unhooks her bra and slides it off over her shoulders. Catherine leans back into his touch until she's pressed against Danny's chest, a quiet moan escaping as Danny mouths the side of her neck. The bra slides off onto the bed and it's a beautiful sight—Steve loves her breasts, small and round and perfect, so soft to the touch. He sits up and kisses her, then ducks down to suck on a nipple making her arch and squirm against Danny. 

Danny's big hands come around to cup Cath's breasts, like he's holding them out for Steve to suckle at; the tips of his fingers rub gentle circles into the soft skin. She's always been sensitive there, and between the two of them, she's soon panting audibly, eyes heavy-lidded, her nipples hard against Steve's tongue. When Steve pulls back, he deliberately turns his head a little, lets his stubble scrape against the tender skin, loving the way that makes her jump and moan. 

"Oh," she says, "fighting dirty, are we?" She leans back against Danny, who hooks his chin over her shoulder and looks at Steve with big, blue, mock-outraged eyes. 

"Now, now," he says in a tone that someone else might mistake for placating, "a Navy SEAL would never fight dirty, Catherine. You must've mistaken him for someone else."

"Oh really?" Cath says. She arches her back and spreads her thighs a little, just enough for Steve to be able to see that she's already wet. "Who might that someone else be?"

"Well," Danny says, moving his hand down—slowly, slowly—over Cath's belly so that his fingers can tease at her clit. "I might just know a guy." 

"You might—" Cath's voice is a breathy whisper as Danny fingers her. "I, _oh_." She spreads her legs and pushes back, lifting her hips restlessly. "Oh god, Danny."

Danny makes a small noise as she moves—she's in Danny's lap now, her ass moving against Danny's cock. Steve kisses her mouth, licking her slack lips as she moans, but when she tries to kiss him back he moves away, stretching out on the bed between her legs. Between Danny's legs. 

He watches, close-up, as Danny slides two fingers inside her. Cath squirms and moans long and low and as Danny withdraws his finger Steve presses in and licks. God, she's so wet, trembling in anticipation and he loves the rich smell of her, the little desperate noises she makes as he slips his tongue inside. Danny's hands are on her thighs now, spreading her legs, supporting her, and when Steve presses in further he can reach the tip of Danny's hard cock, snug underneath her.

"Okay—fighting dirty," Danny gasps. 

Steve grins as he eases a hand underneath, lifting Danny's cock and pressing it against Cath and now with a single long swipe of his tongue he can lick her clit and the head of Danny's cock together. It's a deliberate tease: from experience, Steve knows that something like this isn't enough to make Danny come, but it _is_ just enough to drive him crazy. Especially when Cath starts to really move: she's rocking her hips and pushing back against Danny and forward into Steve's mouth and Steve loves it, loves that he can taste both of them at once. 

He's achingly hard now, but Steve resists the urge to reach down and fist his own cock—he wants to make this last, wants to make this good enough to drive him completely out of his head for a bit, and he knows one sure fire way to achieve that. Where Danny and Cath are concerned, the sex is always the best when someone's laid down a challenge in front of them—and Steve's always known how to do just that. Steve rubs slow circles into that spot just below the head of Danny's cock, that one really sensitive place that always drives him crazy. He grins to himself when he feels how that makes the long muscles in Danny's thighs tremble, before shifting that little bit closer and starting to suck, slow and deliberate, at Cath's clit. 

She bucks up against him, swearing loudly, crying out his name and Danny's, so loud that Steve can barely hear the soft way Danny's talking her through it as she gets closer to coming: "Come on," he's saying, "that's good, you're so good, come on Cath, give it up for him baby, come on." 

Cath comes with a drawn-out sob, panting for breath. Steve pulls away gently, knowing that she's always sensitive in the immediate aftermath of orgasm, but can't resist licking at her one last time, making her jump and moan. 

"Bastard," Cath says, but she's grinning, and she reaches down to run her thumb over his lower lip where he's still wet from her. 

"Hrm," Danny says. He's still cupping one of Cath's breasts in his hand, rolling one nipple gently between thumb and forefinger. "Well, I think if he's going to play dirty like that, it's time we teach him a lesson, huh?"

"Hell, yeah," Cath says. She sounds as if she's drunk as she slides off of Danny's lap, skin flushed and sweaty, her grin so large it's verging on the goofy. She gives Danny's cock a fond caress and then stretches out on the bed, sleek and content. "Let me catch my breath. You boys play among yourselves for a moment."

"Oh, what, you tired now?" Steve teases.

She gives him a playful shove with her foot. "Not even a little." 

"I believe the lady had a request," Danny says, pulling Steve up into a kiss. 

It's hot and hungry and Steve can taste Danny's desperation, feels the thrill of it low in his belly. He tries to push Danny down on the bed but Danny's having none of it, twisting out from under him and then Steve is on his back and Danny's climbing over him, hand in his hair, holding Steve in place as he keep on kissing him.

"Oh yeah, nice move, Danny," Cath says. "You like that, Steve, don't you?"

And Steve does. He pulls Danny down on top of him, thick muscles and hairy chest pressed against his, Danny's slick cock pushing into his hip. Danny nuzzles Steve's ear, nips gently at the side of his neck and Steve groans, pulling his feet in and pushing up against Danny. But before he can get any real friction going, Danny pulls away from him and kneels between Steve's legs. 

"Nuh uh," Danny says. "You're not willing to play nice, you're going to have to live with the consequences of your behaviour, my friend."

"I like these consequences just fine," Steve says, grinning, and stretching deliberately. He knows Danny has a thing for the tats that curl in red-and-black ink around his hipbones and he cants his hips upwards, stretches shamelessly, arching his back. 

It makes Cath snort with laughter. "Subtle."

Danny looks over at her while gesturing at Steve with one hand. "Really, you people dubbed him Smooth Dog?"

"I disavow all knowledge," Cath says. She props herself up on one elbow and cocks an eyebrow. "Are you boys going to get on with the floor show any time soon, or am I going to keep doing all the work here?"

"Ma'am, yes ma'am," Danny says, smirking. He turns back to Steve, braces himself with hands either side of Steve's chest, but instead of lowering himself down, giving Steve that full body contact he's been craving, Danny starts to navigate a slow path down Steve's body. Every now and then, according to a weird, off-beat rhythm of Danny's own choosing, he'll press a kiss to a random spot on Steve's skin, nip gently at the soft skin on his belly, but mostly it's just the hot, damp feel of Danny's breath against Steve's skin. It's the worst kind of tease, because it's no touch at all but Steve feels like he's being caressed all over: because he's the full focus of Danny's attention, because he can feel Cath watching them and can see, out of the corner of his eye, that she's starting to touch herself. 

He reaches out and brushes his knuckles over her belly, then gasps as Danny rubs his whiskery cheek against his thigh. Steve groans, shifting his hips, restless now with the need to come. His cock is heavy and full and very neglected, but Danny only brushes his lips over it, a warm, brief touch and then he's gone again, his breath now tickling Steve's hip.

"Danny, come on," Steve says. 

Danny noses the crease of Steve's thigh. "Problem, Steve?" 

Steve can hear the tightness behind Danny's casual, teasing words, knows that Danny is just as worked up as he is. 

"Come on, you know you want to fuck me," Steve coaxes in a low voice. 

"Maybe," Danny says. He closes his mouth over Steve's cock and Steve cries out against the sudden rush of pleasure, hands scrabbling over the mattress as he tries to steady himself. Danny pulls back, cock sliding out of his mouth and wraps his fist around it and grins at Steve, hair falling down over his forehead, eyes bright and oh so blue. "If I feel like."

He squeezes Steve's cock and Steve shudders, pushing into Danny's hand. Then Danny's pushing his legs up and Steve pulls his knees to his chest, eager and impatient. "That's nice," Danny says, his voice growing rough. "That's really, really nice." 

Cath's clearly enjoying the show, too: Steve can hear her soft sounds increasing in urgency, turns his head to watch her face go slack with pleasure as she grinds against the heel of her hand and comes and comes. She's always been unabashed about the interest she takes in watching Steve and Danny together, even back at the beginning when Steve still felt awkward, uncertain about how this was going to work with three of them sharing a bed. Now, it's a feedback loop: her pleasure kicking Steve's higher. 

A snap of a flip top and then a splash of lube hits the back of Steve's thighs, brings his focus back to what Danny's doing. Danny always makes a mess but Steve doesn't care, not when there's a slick finger circling his opening, slipping inside of him. The lube's a little cold and it's been a while since they've had a chance to do this, but Steve doesn't really care about that either: not when he's got Danny's fingers stretching him, filling him just enough to make him aware of how much more he wants. Steve loves this, loves getting fucked, whether it's Danny's cock or Cath with one of her strap-ons—he grunts, working himself down onto Danny's fingers with impatient shoves of his hips. 

"Hey, hey," Danny says, smacking him on the side with his lube-sticky free hand. "Good things come to those who wait, Steven."

"I'd prefer to be coming," Steve says, half-breathless, half-laughing, "if you don't mind." 

"That is a terrible line," Danny says, "truly, I'm embarrassed for you," but Steve feels not one bit of shame because Catherine's rolling a condom over Danny's cock and helping line him up so that he pushes slowly, steadily, inside Steve. 

Steve lets his head roll back against the pillow, trying to keep his breathing even through the sensation, as he brings his legs down to tighten around Danny's thighs. It's always a little overwhelming at first, the inexorable stretch of it, the way the first thrust in feels almost endless. Danny pushes forward until he's as deep inside Steve as he can get and pauses there, holding himself artificially still, while Cath runs her finger around the edge of Steve's hole. Her touch makes Danny tremble; Steve can feel it reverberate through his thighs. 

"You look so good together," she murmurs. 

"Yeah," Danny pants. "Yeah. We, uh—" He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, then another, clearly trying to hold it together.

Cath reaches up and kisses the side of his jaw as she runs a hand over Danny's chest. "You okay there, Danny?"

"Just peachy," Danny blurts out, and Steve laughs, he can't help it, he loves seeing Danny so undone.

Danny points a finger. "Stop it, you."

He seems to have recovered, for the moment at least. Slipping his arms under Steve's legs and lifting them, Danny starts to move, pulling out and easing into Steve with long, slow thrusts. Steve rocks his hips, pushing up to meet each thrust. An easy, steady rhythm, pushing and pulling at each other like they always do and it's so fucking good, the way Danny fills him. Steve gets lost in it, stretching his arms out to steady himself on the bed. He slings a leg up on Danny's shoulder as Danny moves in closer, rhythm faltering briefly but then they've got it going again, faster now. Danny's making small noises with every shove of his hips and Steve can feel the strain in Danny's body. He's on edge himself, his own cock aching so he reaches for it, needing to get himself off.

"Oh no, not yet, Steve." Cath takes his hand and pulls it away. When Steve tries with his other hand she grabs that one too, twisting over him and pinning his hands to either side of his head. She grins triumphantly before dipping her head to suck on a nipple.

Steve cries out, cursing and laughing a little, arching his back when Cath sucks harder and scrapes her teeth over it. 

"I know you don't particularly believe in it," she says, "but patience _is_ a virtue." She keeps his hands pinned as she leans in to kiss him—short, swift kisses and she won't come as close as Steve wants but her breasts still brush against his chest, the fall of her hair tumbling down around him, all of it light and teasing and all of it a breathtaking contrast to the hard, steady way that Danny's fucking him. 

He can hardly think for how good it feels, for how good _they're_ making him feel—Cath's mouth on his and Danny's palms rubbing up and down his thighs, pushing the hair against the grain. Danny's talking now, babbling the way he always gets when he's close to coming, and Cath's humming low in her throat, the way she does when she's feeling satisfied, and Steve's held down and pinned beneath the two of them: their bodies, their warmth, their affection, and it feels so good that he—

Steve's back arches and he's coming untouched: all over his belly and Cath's side. She croons softly at him as he works his way through his orgasm, encouraging him, and when she says "Good boy", it does something to his hind brain. It kicks the feeling up a notch, right in the middle of coming, and Steve closes his eyes and groans and clenches down hard on Danny's cock. 

Danny curses and shoves hard against him, hips jerky and uncoordinated. Gripping Steve's thighs tight, Danny comes, moaning low and desperate. Steve can feel Danny's cock pulsing inside him, making his own cock twitch, sending little aftershocks of pleasure through his body. He whimpers against Cath's mouth as she kisses him and he shudders one more time, feeling completely, utterly undone, as if his body isn't his own anymore. 

And it's not—Cath has his wrists pinned to the bed, Danny's still got an iron grip on his legs. And Danny's cock is still inside of him. Steve takes a moment to breath, to just be. Then he shifts his hips, and decides he still enjoys the sensation. Maybe a little too much. 

"Hey, hey," Danny gasps. 

Cath laughs against Steve's neck, then pulls back, letting go of Steve's wrist, sliding her hands along his arms. "You good?" she asks Steve. 

Steve flexes his wrists, then rubs a hand over his eyes. "Yeah," he says, because it's all he can manage right now. 

And Cath figures that out immediately, her smile growing broad and smug. "Told you patience is a virtue." 

Danny finally releases his grip on Steve's legs and is carefully withdrawing his softening cock from Steve's body. "He'll figure that out one of these days." He leans over to toss the used condom in the trash and Steve reaches out for him, tugging him down onto the bed. Cath slips an arm around Danny's waist and drags him down between the two of them.

Danny goes willingly, though he makes a show of grumbling drowsily. "You Navy people," he says, tucking himself up against Catherine's side, hooking one leg over Steve's as if to anchor himself. "Always so bossy."

"Uh huh," Cath says dryly, tugging the sheets up over them. "Am I the only one who remembers the time out at Ka'ena where—"

"Different," Danny says, burrowing further down against the pillow. Steve knows that before the night is over, he'll wake up to find that Danny's managed to take over the pillow entirely. "That was logistics."

Cath's laughter is low and musical, and Steve reaches across Danny's body to snag her wrist with one hand. It's a sudden, fierce impulse which makes him say, "In the morning, okay? We'll... I'll say it all in the morning." 

"Talking?" Danny raises his head and blinks at Steve, endearingly surprised and sleepy. "You are going to volunteer?" 

Cath leans past Danny, pushing him against Steve. "We're going to hold you to that. Not going to let you out of bed until you do." 

Steve raises his eyebrows. "Really? That sounds kind of nice." 

She's resting her chin on Danny's shoulder, trying for a stern gaze, but failing completely. "I don't mean like that, Steve."

"No? Why not?" Danny asks. 

"Exactly. You two can keep fucking me until I talk," Steve says with a sudden rush of giddiness. 

Cath shakes her head as Danny says, "Okay, I can see how that wouldn't work at all."

Steve kisses each of them sweet and slow, first Danny and then Cath. Because even though things are a little crazy, his life spinning out of control, he loves them both, very much. "Listen, I know Mick. Doris isn't going to get home until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest." He winces at the thought of what will be keeping her there. "So yeah. I promise. No more holding back." 

He reaches for the lamp, switching it off before settling back in. Tucking up against Danny, he drapes an arm over and onto Cath's waist, keeping them both close. He'll sort out what he needs to say in the morning. Or maybe he won't even sort it out at all, he'll just talk, let the words come out any way they want to, and trust Cath and Danny to figure it all out. 

Steve closes his eyes and sleeps.


End file.
